


Warm in the Winter

by moonshhiine



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21931048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonshhiine/pseuds/moonshhiine
Summary: “But—” Koutarou’s voice wobbled. Keiji knew then that he was a goner. “But it’s Christmas. And I put in the little heart marshmallows for you because you like the way they swirl on top after they melt into the hot chocolate, and—”Keiji never stood a chance, really. Koutarou reached out for something to the side, pushed something warm into his hands and it felt a lot like love.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 8
Kudos: 186
Collections: Secret Santa Haikyuu 2019





	Warm in the Winter

**Author's Note:**

> for @kuroocatto on twitter :>
> 
> I've never written BKAK before and Akaashi Keiji is one Hell of a character to write, but there has been an attempt today and I hope you like it! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone, enjoy reading!!

When Keiji woke up, the first thing he thought was _warm._

Koutarou’s feet pressed against his calves in cold, teasing motions but Keiji could feel the breath against his neck and the arms wrapped around his waist. He could have sworn he was the big spoon when they went to bed, but then, he couldn’t really tell you much about last night. The second thing he thought was, “We need to stop letting Futakuchi host our Christmas parties.”

“Hey, Terushima helped him this year.” Koutarou’s laugh reverberated through his spine and it felt a lot like _good morning_. “We keep letting Oikawa host ours, so it’s really not any better. He keeps trying to uninvite Ushijima even though everyone knows they’re friends now.”

Keiji hummed, settling back against Koutarou and letting warmth pool where their skin met. “The high school volleyball circuit was full of the weirdest people,” he said. Like the unlikely friends he found in an old captains’ group chat of exactly everything but volleyball, or the family he found in some high school in Tokyo, or—or his best friend, his partner, the man with whom he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with.

“You’re one of them,” Koutarou said. “You were just better at hiding it.”

Keiji shifted, turning around and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Koutarou whispered back, and it sounded a lot like _I love you_.

He buried his face into the dip of Koutarou’s collar bone. He placed his hand over Koutarou’s heart and let its rhythm drum against his skin. “Five more minutes,” he said, as though they don’t have all the time in the world.

* * *

When Keiji woke up, the first thing he thought was _sweet._

“Merry Christmas,” Koutarou blurted in a whisper-shout approximately five centimeters away from his face, expression like a deer caught in the headlights.

He blinked.

“What are you doing, Koutarou?”

“Keijiii,” Koutarou pouted. “I was going to surprise you.”

He furrowed his brows, leaning up to kiss him. “We said no gifts this year.”

Koutarou slowly coaxed him into sitting up, but he immediately slumped into Koutarou’s arms like it was all he knew to do. “Someone’s tired,” Koutarou laughed. “Come on, darling, Futakuchi’s party wasn’t that bad. You love them.”

“Love is not the word I would use,” Keiji said.

“I made you hot chocolate,” Koutarou said.

 _Ah_ , he thought. That would explain the sickly sweet aroma that filled the air.

“I told you to stop bringing food in the bedroom.”

“But—” Koutarou’s voice wobbled. Keiji knew then that he was a goner. “But it’s Christmas. And I put in the little heart marshmallows for you because you like the way they swirl on top after they melt into the hot chocolate, and—”

Keiji never stood a chance, really. Koutarou reached out for something to the side, pushed something warm into his hands and it felt a lot like love. “Thank you,” he said. “Merry Christmas, Koutarou.”

* * *

Akaashi Keiji—professional volleyball player on a local second division team, sports journalist, photographer—was good at many things.

Most people got the impression that Keiji was the put-together one in their relationship, but that was because everyone always underestimated Koutarou. If it was up to Keiji, half of their grocery list would end up rotting their teeth into the next life. He had a sweet tooth, sue him, and Koutarou’s culinary skill did little to tame it.

He was good at many things, but personally, baking was not one of those things.

Which is how their kitchen ended up covered in flour.

Or, more accurately, Keiji had no idea how _anything_ ended up like this: the thick smell of vanilla cutting through the air, the egg splattered on the floor, and burn marks on the ceiling that weren’t there before. Koutarou’s hair looked more white than it ever had in his life.

“I hate to say this,” Koutarou laughed, “but you’re a wreck in the kitchen, babe.”

“I just wanted cookies,” Keiji grumbled.

Koutarou brought a hand, covered in powdered sugar and baking soda, to his hair and ruffled it in an attempt of comfort. “We should clean this up and try again, I’ll help you through it properly this time. You take the floor and I’ll take the counter so it’s faster,” he said, white powder falling through his lashes.

“A shower first,” Keiji said, already grabbing the broom. “And then we’ll try again.”

* * *

In the first few years of their relationship, they had established a tradition of visiting Koutarou’s parents for Christmas Eve and Keiji’s large (and they do mean _large_ ) family on Christmas Day. But between their families, their friends, and the old team—they were relieved to finally have Christmas Day all to themselves.

Koutarou was busy training with his team for most of the year and Keiji’s schedule wasn’t any less hectic than his, so the moments that they had to truly be around each other tended to be few and far in between.

Keiji did love the other captains—even if Futakuchi’s parties were mildly questionable and Terushima keeps goading them into karaoke after he gets Shirabu tipsy because he thinks it’s funny the way he sings Yahaba cheesy love songs but still makes it sound like a threat—and it was always nice to have the whole gang complete again during the holidays. Koutarou had a lot of fun catching up with his own friends, too.

But they were both perfectly content just being together like this: with their limbs tangled into each other so tightly that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other started, and the star off-centered and crooked on top of their tree. Keiji hadn’t had his heart skip beats since his college days—instead, his heartbeat mellowed out to the soft hum of Koutarou’s breathing and everything felt like home.

And if they slow danced in the kitchen with their socks still on, sugar on the floor as the scent of half-burnt chocolate chip cookies and cinnamon filled the room, then that was no one’s business but theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please feel free to leave kudos or a comment :D


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